The Susurrations of a Pale Star

by the7Saviors

Rating: teen
Tags: Suicide / Self Harm, Tragedy, Horror, Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Princess Luna
Length: 19571

Let us not turn our gazes to the sun, lest our eyes burn and our minds come undone...

I thought it was just a particularly hot summer. When my friends and the rest of the town started acting weird, I thought it was just the heat. After all, we've had heatwaves before, and those always drive ponies a little crazy. That's what I told myself, anyway.

And then I did some digging and realized I was right... and also very, very wrong.

Published 2023-04-06 02:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2023-05-25 00:41:29 UTC

Entry #5

Monday – 4:34am

So, not only did I find Pinkie Pie, but I also finally got a response from Luna about what's happening in Canterlot. You'd think that would be good news, and normally, it would be. Unfortunately for me, life hasn't been quite that simple lately. It's been downright soul-crushing, in fact. I mean it when I say I'm on my last legs here, and I think everypony else might be too. I think the whole of Equestria might be on its last legs, if not the rest of the world.

Why all the doom and gloom, you might ask? Well, allow me to give a few examples before I get into the details.

For starters, the sun shouldn't be up yet, but it is. It hasn't gone down since yesterday. And this blistering heat? It's not normal. I'm not talking about how abnormally hot it is, either—although it is abnormally hot. No, this is strange in that the temperature is now so high that the heat should literally be killing us. All of us. We should all be boiling alive, sizzling like griffon-made steaks on a barbecue, and yet none of us are. A lot of the greenery is starting to wilt, but the ponies are not, and nothing is bursting into flame as far as I can see.

Don't get me wrong, I can still feel it, and I'm sure everypony else can too, but it's like the pain from such intense heat isn't allowed to go past a certain threshold. I have some spells to keep the area around me cool, but I've been using those all week to frighteningly little effect. Now they're not working at all, and I'm getting the full brunt of it. And the reason I know the heat isn't affecting everypony like it should be is because, one, I've checked the temperature and, two, all I have to do is walk into Ponyville.

Remember that stallion in Town Square? The one that was just standing in the middle of the road staring up at the sun? That's pretty much all of Ponyville's adult population right now, and if what I heard from Luna is true, it's the same everywhere else. Just hundreds of ponies sitting outside, staring unblinkingly at the sun that still hasn't gone down yet. Nopony's moving. Nopony's saying anything. There are so many ponies out there on the streets, but it's as quiet as a graveyard.

It's like they're all just waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the end, maybewaitingforthehungrypyre

I made the mistake of looking up at the sun while I was out there earlier. I don't even remember doing it, and I had to make a conscious effort to pull my eyes away from it. By the time I realized what I was doing and stopped, roughly an hour had passed me by. I was sitting out there with the rest of town, staring at the sun for an hour, and I hadn't even noticed. Somehow my eyes found their way up to that shining terror in the sky, and suddenly all my thoughts just slipped away for a while.

I'm still not sure how I managed to tear myself out of that trance or whatever it was, but I made sure not to look at the sky again, and I've essentially locked myself and Spike away in the deepest part of my castle. I've been down here in the castle's crystal cellar ever since, using magic to monitor the world outside, writing all of this down, and going over the scrolls Luna sent me. And regarding Spike, he's still in his sleep coma thing.

He isn't dead, but I don't think he'll be waking up any time soon, either. Still sleeping like all is right with the world. The only change is now his body heat has risen so much that I literally can't touch him for fear of burning my hooves. I took some time to check and, yes, it's the same with every other foal in Ponyville. And you want to know something else? Those strange simple robes Rarity was making? Every pony in town is wearing one. She actually got them all to wear those robes. Those stupid robes.

Like some insane cult.

I'd laugh at the absurdity of it all if I wasn't so horrified by the implications. Rarity offered me one, too. Didn't say a word, either. Just came right up to me in town, held out the garment, and when I didn't take it, she just turned away and kept offering robes to other ponies with this eerie hollow smile on her face. There wasn't a hint of life in her eyes. She was just going through the motions, just like Big Mac.

Speaking of the Apple Family, I found them out on the farm. Well, I found Big Mac and Applejack. Like everypony else, they were standing outside, staring at the unrelenting sun, robes and all. Apple Bloom was still asleep in her room and Granny Smith was still nowhere to be found, but I'm pretty sure I know why. I had my suspicions before, but looking around Ponyville, I discovered that there wasn't a single elderly pony among the crowd.

Didn't dwell on it too much, and I'm still not going to. Already enough of a wreck. Got more than enough to worry about.

I found Rainbow Dash up in Cloudsdale, staring at the sun, just like every other pony. She didn't have a robe. None of the pegasi in Cloudsdale did, but that made sense, given Rarity couldn't reach the place on her own. Fluttershy is still gone. Pretty sure Discord whisked her away at some point and left the rest of us to suffer whatever horrifying fate awaits us. Don't know that for sure, but he still hasn't made an appearance or responded to mine or Luna's calls.

I want to be mad at him. I'd like to rage and scream and curse his name to the heavens—and I know Fluttershy probably is, wherever he hid her—but I just can't muster the energy anymore. Honestly, I should probably be thanking the draconequus for thinking of Fluttershy at the very least. At least one of us can be spared from this burning nightmare. Wherever you are, Fluttershy, I hope you're safe.

And then there's Pinkie.

Do you want to know where I found Pinkie?

I found her in the Cave of Harmony beneath the Old Castle in the Everfree, watching the Tree of Harmony burn to cinders. Isn't that insane? Crystal isn't supposed to burn normally, and the Tree of Harmony definitely shouldn't be susceptible to fire—at least I thought that was the case. Celestia once told me the Tree had its own kind of defense against direct attacks against it, but when I stumbled upon the scene, I found none of that.

Well, no, maybe that's not entirely true. The only reason I found Pinkie in that cave was because something was calling out to me. Some silent voice within screaming for help. At least, that's what it felt like. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what the voice was, but I felt the pull of that voice coming from the Everfree Forest. The closer I got to the source, the more my worry and confusion turned into horrible foreboding.

It didn't take me long, once I was actually in the forest, to realize where the voice was coming from. Sure enough, I got to the cave, entered its depths, and found Pinkie there. She just sat there in front of the Tree, watching it burn. Watching the crystalline branches crackle and pop and blacken and shrivel as if the thing were made of regular old bark. The actual Elements themselves—the ones we'd returned to the Tree of Harmony—were seemingly unaffected by the blaze, but that hardly mattered.

It was like the Tree was crying out, silently screaming in agony, and there was nothing I could do. No spell I tried would quench the flames. Just like the heat outside, those flames weren't normal. They licked and lashed at the Tree like fiery tongues. They wrapped around its branches like slithering tentacles made of pure sunlight. It was wrong, vile, horrid, and utterly captivating. I couldn't look away.

Even as I tried to stop it, somewhere in the back of my mind, I though how beautiful those flames are. I thought, why couldn't that be me? It still could be me. I could burn in those flames. Bath in them. Bask in them. I could let them consume me completely. More fuel for the hungry pyre. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it. Feed it.

Feed it.

Feed it.

Feed it.

Feed it.

Feed it.

Feed the pyre. Feed the pyre. Feed the pyre. Feed the pyre. Feed the pyre. Feed the pyre. Feed the pyre. FeedthepyreFeedthepyreFeedthepyreFeedthepyreFeedthepyreFeedthe

I'm losing my mind.

I'm literally losing my mind.

I don't remember writing any of that. I don't remember unlocking the cellar door or climbing all the way up to the highest balcony in my castle. I have no memory of doing any of that. All I know is that, one moment I was writing about how I found Pinkie, and the next, I was sitting outside on my balcony staring at the sun. I checked the time, and I was out there for almost two hours.

What's worse is that, now that I'm thinking about it and reading back what I wrote, I can't remember what happened after that—after I found Pinkie and tried to put out that fire, I mean. I'm fairly sure I knew before whatever weird impulse compelled me to go to the balcony, but now the memory is just gone. The last thing I can recall from back then, was arriving back at my castle and finding the scrolls from Luna in my bedroom.

The rest is a blank. I don't know what happened to Pinkie or the Tree. I don't know what happened on the way back, and frankly, I really, really don't want to go back to check. If I'm being completely honest, I don't want to leave this cellar ever again. But I know I have to. I need to go to Canterlot. I have to tell Luna about the Tree of Harmony. Even if I don't know what happened, she might.

At the very least, I might be able to get her to investigate instead, because I've decided I'm not going back to the Cave of Harmony. I can't. When I try to remember what happened in that cave, my body locks up and this wave of existential terror just washes over me. I don't know what happened to Pinkie and, I feel sick and disgusted with myself for saying it, but I don't want to know.

I don't know if she caused that fire or if she was just there for it, but every fiber of my being is screaming at me to let it go. To leave it alone. That I'm better off not knowing the truth, and I find myself hard-pressed to disagree. So, I'm sorry, Pinkie, but I don't think I can help you. Not this time. I'll leave it to Luna. I also need to talk to Celestia. Luna thinks her sister is at the center of all of this, but not entirely the cause of it. She thinks Celestia is just as much a victim as everypony else.

After reading Luna's letter and the scrolls she sent me, I'm not so sure. I have my doubts, but I don't think I'll truly know until I actually confront Celestia about it. I know I probably should have booked it to Canterlot the moment I read Luna's letter and the scrolls, but truth be told, I wanted to write this all down first, just in case something happened. I wanted something on record. I started this journal on a whim, but now it's become a sort of record of events, I suppose.

Who knows? Maybe my decision to chronicle my thoughts just when this all kicked off was no mere coincidence. I don't know, but I should probably get some rest before I head out. I haven't slept since my last entry, and the fatigue and this heat is really starting to get to me. Maybe that's why all that craziness happened earlier. Maybe I just let my guard down because I was tired? Either way, I'm in no shape to make the journey all the way to Canterlot on my own.

With things the way they are, I'll need to fly all the way there and probably make a few long-range jumps along the way. That'll be enough of a drain on my physical and magical resources, to say nothing of the terrible weather. I thought about jotting everything in the letter and scrolls down, but I'll leave it all bundled together instead. I've already memorized the instructions Luna gave me should the worst come to pass, but I'll take my journal and the notes with me just in case.

I was going to update Luna on the situation when I got to Canterlot, but I'll just send her a quick letter and then, I'm going to bed. Hopefully, she can handle things with Celestia and the rest of Canterlot until I can get there. Hopefully, things won't get worse than they already are. Hopefully, we can fix this. Hopefully, Celestia hasn't gone completely insane.

Hopefully, I haven't gone completely insane.

Prologue

On the highest balcony of a lofty castle that hugged the uppermost reaches of an even loftier mountain, a Princess stood alone in the blissful silence of the night. Bathed in the pale white glow of a full moon, she closed her eyes, raised a placid smile to the starry sky above, and let a soft evening breeze brush along her midnight blue coat. She stayed that way for some time, stretching the tranquil moment out for as long as she dared before allowing herself a quiet sigh of contentment.

She opened her eyes and cast her cyan gaze upward toward the celestial body that shared her name. The moon had no eyes with which to return her adoring gaze, but Princess Luna liked to believe that it did so, and just as fondly. Not even a thousand years trapped within its cold embrace had been enough to erode the Princess' affection.

No amount of time would ever be enough to do such a thing. It was this very affection that made it so hard to perform the final task of her nightly obligations. At the end of each and every night, she reached out to the heavens to coax the moon into its descent below the horizon.

At the end of each and every night, she felt that same small touch of sadness to see it go. But in the end, she was just half of a single whole. Only one part of an endless cycle. One partner in a heavenly dance of two.

Princess Luna had to bring about the end of her wonderous night so that her solar half could break the dawn. And so, with one last wistful sigh, she did her duty. Reaching out to the moon above with supernal magic ingrained within her very soul, she wrapped her will around it and gently pulled it down, down, down until it disappeared below a far distant mountain range.

The deed was done before long and the Princess of the Night waited for her older sister to play her part. After several long seconds, however, she found that the sky was still painted the same midnight blue of her own coat. When another few moments passed with no sign of the sun's light, Luna began to worry.

It was her sister's duty to raise the star that illuminated Equestria, and Princess Celestia was nothing if not punctual in her role. Not once since her return from her millennia-long banishment had the younger Princess seen the sun falter in its majestic ascent.

Celestia had always ensured its rise at the appointed hour each morning... until today it seemed. But just as Princess Luna's mind began to buzz with worried ruminations, the star-strewn sky finally changed. Dark and dusky blue gradually gave way to a stunning view of pale pink, brilliant orange, and fiery red.

Dawn had finally broken over Equestria and the sky was at last filled with the morning light of the sun. The sight sent a wave of relief rushing through Luna's mind, but the worry refused to leave her heart entirely. It was that lingering worry that creased her brow as she turned away from the balustrade and made her way back into the castle proper.

On the opposite side of the castle on that same floor was another balcony. This was the balcony Solar Princess stood upon as she raised and lowered the sun and it was on this balcony that Princess Luna found Princess Celestia.

The alabaster mare sat with her back to the balcony's entrance. Luna was unable to see her sister's expression but noted the almost unnatural rigidity of her posture with no small amount of concern. Save for the gentle undulations of her ethereal mane and tail, Celestia was as the very stone statues that adorned the castle's gardens.

"Sister?" Luna began as she took a tentative step out onto the balcony, "is all well? I could not help but notice an unusual delay in the ascension of the sun."

Celestia didn't shift an inch at the sound of Luna's voice, nor did she respond right away. It was only once she moved to stand by Celestia's side that Luna saw her sister's face. Celestia's gaze was fixed on the horizon, her fuchsia irides tracking the sun as it finished its rise over the distant mountain tops.

Unlike the happiness and tranquility, Luna herself felt when she gazed upon her moon, Celestia's expression was wholly and unnervingly unreadable as she watched the morning sun. The younger alicorn had only ever seen Celestia wear this kind of inscrutable mien during the early months following Equestria's rather turbulent founding.

Such an expression did not bode well in Luna's mind, and yet when the older alicorn finally spoke, it was with her usual airy grace.

"I'm sorry to have worried you, Luna," she replied, her eyes still firmly locked on the horizon, "I'm fine if a bit tired, but tell me... does the sun look in any way different to you? Brighter or... dimmer, maybe?"

Luna's troubled frown deepened slightly as she followed Celestia's gaze to the far-off star. It was generally understood that staring directly into the sun's light was ill-advised but the radiant glare posed no such problems for the two Princesses and their alicorn nature. With that in mind, Luna examined the sun, trying to see what her sister saw, but nothing in particular stood out as queer to the Princess of the Night.

"I am sorry, sister, but there is no change as far as I can see," Luna finally said with a shake of her head, "perhaps the stresses of attending the Day Court are finally catching up to you?"

"Perhaps so," Celestia agreed with an indulgent chuckle that broke the eerie stillness of her visage. She turned to her younger sister with a small smile, "perhaps it might be best to take some time for myself before heading once more into the battlefield of everyday politics."

"It just might be at that," Luna agreed after searching Celestia's slightly weary features, "take as much time as you need, dear sister. I will take responsibility if anypony comes to inquire of your whereabouts."

The Solar Princess opened her mouth as if to protest that it wasn't necessary, but seemed to think better of it and gave her younger sister a grateful smile instead.

"Very well then, thank you, Luna," she said, then stepped past Luna to make her way back into the castle, "I'll be in my study if any issues arise that need my attention, and I know you must be tired so I'll try not to take too much time."

Princess Luna turned to watch the other mare leave, her brow once more creased with worry. There was an unease she couldn't shake when she thought back to the look on Celestia's face. Ultimately, the Lunar Princess decided to let the matter rest for now. After all, She knew her sister would tell her of any concerns if they were truly that great.

Just as Luna was beginning to convince herself of that fact, Celestia suddenly paused right before the entryway into the castle, as if a thought had just struck her.

"If you are planning to remain awake for a little while longer, I suggest you find a way to keep yourself cool somehow, sister," she advised before moving once again through the entryway, "I think that this day will be an especially warm one."

Luna blinked at that, but in the time it took her to decide what to make of the unexpected recommendation, Princess Celestia had already disappeared down the hall and around a distant corner.

Entry #1

Wednesday – 7:45pm

So I normally don't use my journals for anything other than research purposes, but I've decided to set one aside for something more personal.

If asked why, I honestly wouldn't be able to give a good answer. I guess I just felt like a change, and taking up a personal diary of sorts seemed like a novel idea. Rarity has a journal of her own, and she's told me before that pouring her private thoughts out onto the page can often be a cathartic experience. So maybe that's it. Maybe I started this journal to ease my mind a little. I suppose it's as good an excuse as any to write about what's actually bothering me.

I had a dream last night, and it's kind of been weighing on me a bit for some reason. Now that I'm putting words to parchment, it feels a bit silly. I can barely remember what I actually dreamed about, but what I do remember I can't quite get out of my head. It's just a vague memory of me standing atop the highest balcony of my castle. I'm looking up at the sun for some reason, when it suddenly vanishes right out of the sky, leaving everything in complete and utter darkness.

I'm not sure what was going on before that, and I don't remember if I saw anything afterward. What I do remember, was that my body started to get uncomfortably hot—like I'd been wandering the Saddle Arabian desert for hours. I know it's possible to experience a change in temperature even while dreaming, but in my case, the sensation was too intense to be normal. At least, that's what I felt, anyway.

But that wasn't the end of it. There was one other thing I recall from that dream, and that was the whispers. I don't remember exactly when they started, but as the heat rose, the whispers grew louder and louder. I couldn't understand what was being said and, truth be told, I'm not sure I want to. I can't put into words how creepy the whispers were. Words couldn't do it justice. What I can say for sure is that it wasn't the nigh unbearable desert-like heat that woke me up, it was most definitely the whispers.

I did wake up sweating, but it wasn't one of those cold, just-had-a-nightmare sweats. It was just regular old hot summer sweat. Gross, but manageable. It really is turning out to be a scorcher, though. Summer just started not too long ago, but if this keeps up, we might have a heatwave on our hooves, and those are never fun. As hot as it is, I'm tempted to just write that weird dream off as my brain trying to cope with the rising temperature.

Maybe that's what it is, maybe not. Either way, I don't think I'm the only one being affected by the weather. I think Spike is having some trouble dealing with the heat as well, which is definitely weird given that he's a dragon. He shouldn't be having any issues, and I'm not actually sure if it is the heat, but I think something is off. The little guy spent all morning wandering around in a daze, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Now, it isn't strange for Spike to be a complete zombie when he wakes up. In fact, it's a pretty common occurrence—especially when he spends all night helping me with one project or another. The thing is, he usually perks back up by the time he's finished breakfast. Today was different. He was still out of it when noon rolled around. I asked him if he'd had any trouble sleeping last night and he hadn't. He told me he'd slept like a baby dragon.

Neither of us was sure what was going on and in the end, we never figured it out. Spike wound up going back to sleep a little after two in the afternoon, and he's been asleep ever since. I know dragons are infamous sleepers, but Spike is still a baby where a dragon's biological development is concerned. He still has a good few decades before his sleep cycle stretches out into something like this.

It's a little worrying, but I'll wait and see what happens for now. In the meantime, I'll check a few references on dragons and weird sleeping habits before heading off to bed myself. Here's hoping I don't have any more weird dreams.

Entry #2

Thursday – 8:21pm

Fluttershy is missing.

I know this is only my second entry and this whole thing is supposed to be therapeutic or whatever, but I'm not really in the mood to beat around the bush today. With that in mind, I'll just get right down to it and start from the beginning. I wake up—later than I would've liked, but no weird dreams, thankfully—and go to check on Spike when I hear Rainbow Dash calling my name from the castle foyer. Spike was still asleep, but it wasn't restless and he looked fine for now.

I was prepared to spend the day checking up on that information regarding abnormal dragon sleep cycles, but I couldn't exactly leave the pegasus waiting. I wanted to tell her I was busy, and I probably would have, but the mare sounded worried about something. Very worried. So I set my plans aside to see what the issue was. The moment Rainbow sees me, she starts peppering me with questions about where Fluttershy is.

I, of course, have no idea. I'd gone into Ponyville to take care of a few errands yesterday, but never ran into Fluttershy at any point. I tell Rainbow Dash as much, and she tells me that she hadn't seen the mare at all that day. Mind you, this isn't anything new for Fluttershy. She has days when she doesn't leave her house at all, except maybe to take care of some animals in and near the Everfree Forest. I try to bring this up, but Rainbow cuts that notion down before it has a chance to properly propagate. The panicked pegasus tells me she already checked in and around Fluttershy's cottage and didn't see her there.

Evidently Angel Bunny was there, but none of us can understand the little demon like Fluttershy can, so naturally he was no help. After checking her home, Rainbow Dash did a sweep of the town and didn't see her anywhere either. She'd asked the other girls, but none of them had seen Fluttershy either. That brought Rainbow Dash to my doorstep. She'd done a cursory scan of the Everfree's borders, but she wanted to get the gang together to do a more thorough search of the Everfree Forest.

Of course, I agreed to help. I wasn't sure if Rainbow Dash was overreacting or if things were really that dire, but I wasn't willing to take the chance that they weren't. When it comes to the safety of my friends, it's always worth an investigation at the very least. So, with Rainbow in tow, I headed into Ponyville to collect the girls for our ponyhunt. I did a bit of searching myself around all of Fluttershy's usual hangout spots while I was in town.

She didn't have many, so it didn't take that long. Rainbow complained that she'd already checked, but I wasn't going to apologize for being thorough. With that done, we stopped by the Carousel Boutique to pick up Rarity, and looking back on the day's events, this is where things start getting a bit weird. No, even before that things were a little strange, but it's only in hindsight that I'm seeing it now.

It wasn't everypony, but there were some ponies we met along the way that seemed slightly off—like Aloe and Lotus, for example. Rainbow Dash and I stopped by the Ponyville Day Spa to ask around about Fluttershy. It was a long shot, but again, I just wanted to double-check. It was a slow day, so the only ones we ended up talking to were the proprietors themselves.

I didn't notice it at the time, but there was something strange about the way the spa twins spoke. The way they moved. The way they looked. If I had to describe their behavior in a word, I'd say slow. Or sluggish, maybe. There was a sort of drag in their tone and a weird distance in their eyes, like they were never really looking directly at me when they spoke, but rather past me. Through me.

It wasn't a big enough change to be blatant—like I said, I didn't pick up on it at first, and Rainbow Dash didn't pick up on it at all. If you knew what you were looking for, though, it was pretty clear the two weren't operating at full capacity, so to speak. This could have easily been written off as too much time in the workplace or something similar, but it wasn't just them.

Again, it wasn't everypony, but it was enough to give me some pause. The only reason I was able to catch on at all was because both Rarity and Applejack were acting the same way. They had that same slight sluggishness in their voice and movements, and that same slightly distant look in their eyes. Lethargy. That's the word that comes to mind. They all seemed not quite lethargic, but just shy of it.

I think I just figured it was that summer heat dragging everypony down. That might actually be the case, but then I think about Spike and I wonder. Is that really all it is? Just the blistering sun sapping away all of their energy? Thinking about it rationally, that's almost certainly the cause. But even if that is the case, that doesn't quite explain Pinkie Pie's behavior.

That mare is odd at the best of times, but today she seemed out of it. More so than usual, and not in the same way as everypony else. Unlike the others, when we picked Pinkie up from Sugarcube Corner, I knew immediately that something was wrong. If you weren't paying attention, it would've just seemed like Pinkie being Pinkie, and I think that's what she was going for. The others didn't pay any mind to her antics, and Rainbow Dash was already preoccupied with her worries about Fluttershy.

I could see it, though. Don't ask me why or how. Maybe it's just because I know my friends so well. Maybe it's a “Princess of Friendship” thing. I don't know, but I could see that Pinkie wasn't quite herself. As we entered the Everfree Forest and started our search in earnest, I kept an eye on the bouncy earth pony. I'd asked her if anything was wrong, but she'd just brushed my worries aside with a laugh and a quirky comment.

But there was an odd desperation to Pinkie's whimsical antics. A skittishness, almost. A sort of furtiveness that I'd only ever seen when the mare was at her breaking point. I asked about it a few times, whenever we had a moment alone, but she kept denying anything was wrong. All I could do was reassure her. I told her I'd be there if she needed to talk. She didn't say anything to that, and for a moment I thought she'd actually open up, but she never did in the end.

We spent most of the day scouring the Everfree for any sign of Fluttershy. We even went as far as to search the Castle of the Two Sisters from top to bottom, but ultimately, nothing turned up. We were all dead tired with nothing to show for our efforts, but still decided to search both Fluttershy's cottage and Ponyville one last time before Princess Celestia brought the sun down.

It didn't do us any good, and Fluttershy is still missing even as I sit here in my bedchamber writing all of this down. Spike was up and about when I got back to my castle, so that was something at least—though he still had that drowsiness about him. After giving the baby dragon a rundown of everything that happened earlier, I asked about his situation. From what he told me, Spike genuinely doesn't know what's going on.

He has no answer for why he's so tired and neither do I. On a whim, or maybe a hunch, I asked Spike if he'd had any strange dreams lately. He thought about it for a moment, then told me if he had, he couldn't remember. For some reason, I was relieved to hear that. I would've liked to spend more time with him, but I decided to record today's failure in this journal instead. Do I feel any better about the situation?

Not really, but it's nice to have a record, I suppose. Spike went back to his room, presumably to pass out again, and I'm about ready to do the same. Still, though, I really do need to find out what's going on with him. And we really need to find Fluttershy. I'm worried sick about the mare, but all we can do is try again tomorrow.

I agreed to meet up with Rainbow Dash in Town Square, so we'll see how that goes. Hopefully we can actually make some progress even if we don't end up finding Fluttershy herself.

Entry #3

Friday – 10:54pm

I'm completely and utterly worn out.

I don't want to do this right now, but I'm committed at this point and I can't sleep anyway. I'm tired, and the exhaustion is both physical and mental, but it seems like every time I lay down and close my eyes, they pop right back open. This Tartarus-blasted hot spell isn't helping either. Even under Luna's moon, it's still hot enough to bake bread on a patio.

Spike's asleep again, but that's no surprise. It's pretty late, so he'd likely be asleep regardless of any worrying sleeping habits. I'm still worried, but right now I find myself really wishing I could sleep that well. I haven't had any time to really research what's wrong with Spike, what with Fluttershy's disappearance and what happened with Pinkie and the Cakes and all.

Not to mention what's going on with the rest of the town. It's just been one thing after another and I really. Need. To sleep. But it doesn't look like that's happening anytime soon. So I figured I might as well keep the ball rolling and chronicle the insanity that was my day.

So, Rainbow Dash and I were supposed to meet up in Ponyville's Town Square this morning. The plan this time around had been to widen our search beyond Ponyville and the Everfree. This time, we'd all take to the clouds—specifically, Cloudsdale. Evidently, Rainbow had already talked to Fluttershy's parents and brother, and they hadn't seen Fluttershy either.

She hadn't bothered to search the rest of Cloudsdale, though, so I suggested we all do a more thorough search together. A few cloud walking spells, and we'd be good to go. That was the plan—and we did ultimately go to Cloudsdale—but there were some complications along the way. To start off with, Rainbow Dash showed up late to our meeting. Like, really late.

I wound up waiting in town square for almost an hour before she finally arrived. I remember thinking that wasn't really like her. The pegasus certainly had her issues, but Rainbow Dash was a surprisingly punctual mare. Most of the time. There were exceptions, of course, but I could generally count on her being there when I needed her—we all could.

I found her tardiness especially strange considering what we were supposed to be doing. And then she finally showed up, and I realized immediately that—just like Pinkie—something was wrong. I was able to tell in an instant just by the way she flew. Rainbow Dash arrived by flight, which was normal. What wasn't normal, was the speed. She came in slow, flying no faster than the leisurely pace of your average pegasus.

For Rainbow Dash, that was practically a crawl. Sure, she isn't always flying at an impossible clip, but she really only slows down so that others can keep up. In this case, her slow speed was completely unwarranted. Even if she'd slept in—like I'd assumed while I was waiting—and was still groggy, she'd still come rushing in like the demons of Tartarus were on her heels. This was not normal.

It was made all the more apparent when she got close enough for me to see her face. Rainbow looked tired. This wasn't just-woke-up tired, either. This was bone-deep weariness—like she had the weight of the world on her back. She had that same slightly glassy look in her eyes as Rarity and Applejack and when she spoke, there was just no energy in her voice at all.

It was downright unnerving to see her this way. Thinking back on it, I don't think I'd ever seen Rainbow Dash act like this. Not around me, anyway. It would've been the most unsettling thing I'd seen that day, had it not been for what we saw in Sugarcube Corner. As things stood, Rainbow Dash's coming was simply more fuel added to the fire of weirdness.

What I mean to say is that I wasn't the only one standing around in Town Square. As I waited for Rainbow Dash, I took the opportunity to do some “pony watching” as it were. What I saw alarmed me. Looking around, I saw that Rainbow Dash wasn't the only one divested of energy. Plenty of ponies still went about their business, but the majority of ponies moved about like shambling corpses bereft of life.

Nopony stopped to talk to anypony else. Even the ponies that looked like they had somewhere to be moved ponderously ahead with unfocused eyes. There was one pony who just sat there right smack in the middle of the road, still as a stone. Nopony paid him any attention as they passed by and the earth pony stallion just sat there, sweat pouring down his face in the summer heat.

He didn't blink. He didn't move. He didn't do anything but stare up at the sky. At the sun.

Again, I really wanted to write this all off as some form of advanced delirium caused by the intense heat—or maybe mass hysteria or something—but I was having a very hard time convincing myself of the notion. The idea went out the window entirely when we all went to go get Pinkie Pie, but I'll get to that in a moment.

Getting back to Rainbow Dash, I was greeted with a shrug and half-hearted apology by the mare. I wanted to be angry, but at that point I was just ready get as far from Town Square as possible, get the girls, and start looking for Fluttershy. Besides that, Rainbow looked so worn down that I couldn't bring myself to berate her anyway. I tried asking if something was wrong, but she just shrugged again and mumbled out some noncommittal answer.

I tried lifting her spirits, telling her that we'd find Fluttershy for sure this time, but her heart just wasn't in it. To be fair, even I didn't fully believe what I was saying at this point. So, unable to get through to the pegasus, we both headed off to grab Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie. Applejack, we found out in the apple orchard standing in front of a tree and staring at it like she was trying to remember what a tree even was.

She snapped out of it quickly enough once we called out to her, but that was just one more thing to add to the pile of strangeness. Rarity was in her boutique working on something when we came to get her. I couldn't tell exactly what it was, but it seemed to be taking up all of her attention. We had a much harder time pulling the seamstress away from her sewing machine.

It took me practically shouting in her ear before she even bothered to look our way. Even then, her greetings and apologies were distracted. Throughout our conversation, she just kept glancing back at the sewing machine, clearly not at all interested in the safety of her missing friend and spa partner. On any other day—or perhaps I should say in any other circumstance—her behavior wouldn't be all that out of character.

Rarity was a busy and passionate mare when it came to her work, after all. Her reluctance to step away from her craft was only natural. Or it would be in any other circumstance. Right now, it was another oddity to keep in the back of my mind. It took a worrying amount of convincing, but eventually we were able to pull Rarity away from the Carousel Boutique.

And then we arrived at Sugarcube Corner.

There was no one to greet us when we stepped inside. The entire shop was empty. It was already getting late in the morning, but a simple cursory glance around told me the place wasn't open yet—or that's what it looked like at first. Suspicious, the others and I did a bit of looking around, and upon further investigation, it wasn't that the shop wasn't open yet. Rather, the place hadn't been closed since yesterday.

Doubling back, I checked again and saw that the sign outside the entrance was still set to 'OPEN'. The sweets on display that hadn't been sold the day before were still there, either stale and flaky or melted into a liquid from the blistering weather. In the kitchen, all manner of crusty and slimy cooking utensils sat uncleaned on the counters and cooking table.

The kitchen itself was a mess. It looked like the area had been hit by a tornado full of baking products. The smell of it all was overwhelming, and I didn't stay in there for very long. At one point, I passed the stairs that led up to the living quarters on the second floor, and I heard something. It was faint, but it was definitely there. I hesitated for a moment, but decided to throw propriety to the wind in light of what I saw on the first floor.

I told the girls where I was going and went upstairs, hoping against hope that Pinkie and the Cakes were okay. As I reached the top of the steps, that faint noise became clearer. It was a voice, muffled by distance and a door, but familiar. There were actually two different voices coming from separate rooms, but I chose to investigate the one I recognized first.

It didn't take me long to reach the first room, where I heard Pinkie's voice coming from behind the closed door. The mare's voice was low—so low that I was surprised I'd heard it at all, let alone all the way down the stairs. I moved a bit closer in an effort to hear what she was saying, and almost pulled back in shock and confusion a second later.

Pinkie's voice was shaky and panicked, her words spilling out of her mouth in a ceaseless and incomprehensible torrent. Even with my ear pressed up against the door, I couldn't fully parse the mare's frantic but quiet stream of consciousness. She was speaking so fast, her words were tumbling over one another. Caught off guard as I was, I almost missed the quiet sobs amidst the terrified ramblings.

I strained my ears, trying to find anything that made any actual sense, and then I heard something that made my blood run cold.

“Turn not your gaze to the sun, lest your eyes burn out, and your mind come undone.”

It was this line, repeated over and over and over again, that finally reached my ears. There was such desperation in those words. Desperation, and terror so profound that it still makes me shudder just thinking about it and reading these words back. I'm not a religious mare by any stretch of the imagination, but Pinkie's words hit me like a prayer—like she was pleading with some higher power to spare her from a great evil.

And for some reason, that great evil was the sun.

I mean, sure this has been a particular hot summer so far, and the temperature just seems to keep rising each day, but this? This wasn't normal. Even for Pinkie Pie this wasn't normal. In fact, it was honestly starting to scare me. I knocked on the door and called out to Pinkie, but she didn't answer me. No matter how many times I knocked or how loudly I called her name, the mare continued to ignore me and chant that eerie rhyme.

I almost teleported past the door to try and snap her out of whatever madness had gotten hold of her. Thinking back on it now, I probably should have, but I didn't. I wanted to help, but I was afraid of what I'd see in there. I didn't want to know, so I backed away. Against my better judgment, I left Pinkie to her insane ramblings.

Instead, I went to check on the other voice I'd heard from the other room. It turned out, what I found wasn't much better. If anything, it might have been worse. I quickly realized the room in question belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Cake and the voice specifically was that of Mrs. Cake. I likely wouldn't have entered normally, but the door to the room was slightly ajar and unlike Pinkie, I could hear Mrs. Cake's voice clearly.

I couldn't tell exactly what she was saying from where I stood, but the words were slow, flat, and lifeless, almost as if the baker was in a daze. I faltered as I thought about Pinkie again and suddenly this didn't seem like a good idea anymore. The guilt won out in the end, though, and I forced myself forward. The bedroom was modest, much like any bedroom you'd see in any home in Ponyville.

Single, queen sized bed, a large armoire, a few paintings and pictures of friends and family on the walls and dresser. Nothing too fancy. The first thing that caught my eye when I entered the room was Mr. Cake standing at the second story window, his clammy-looking form bathed in burning sunlight. The stallion wasn't moving and I got the impression he'd been standing in that exact spot for hours.

Just like the stallion in Town Square, he just stood there, staring blankly out the window at something I couldn't see. Sweat dripped from every pore and seeped into his fur, making it damp and sticky and smelly. As the stallion from Town Square flashed across my mind, I thought back to Pinkie's words and suddenly had an idea of what Mr. Cake was probably looking at out there. What he was fixated on.

Unable to take the sight any longer, I turned my attention to the voice coming from the private bathroom. The door to the bathroom was wide open, revealing Mrs. Cake sitting in a full tub of water. The floor around the tub was completely soaked all the way to the door, showing that the bathtub had clearly overflowed at some point. And yet, Mrs. Cake just sat in the tub, absently mumbling about how how hot the weather was.

Her voice and features were utterly devoid of emotion and her mind had clearly gone somewhere far, far away—somewhere I couldn't reach. Like Pinkie, I tried to get both Mr. and Mrs. Cake's attention, and just like Pinkie, they both ignored me completely. I know it sounds stupid, but in that moment, I felt like a ghost. Like some unseen specter who could only watch on as the ponies I liked and cared about fell victim to some kind of weather induced psychosis.

Another, more horrifying thought struck me and I left to find Pound and Pumpkin's room. I found the twins lying in their crib and for one terrible, heart-wrenching moment, I thought they were dead. At first glance, the two foals were as still as little cadavers. Once I stopped freaking out, I checked for signs of life and found they were warm to the touch and breathing normally. They were very much alive, just fast asleep. Dead asleep.

Just like Spike.

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I realized I needed to get out of there. I needed to find help. Get somepony better equipped to deal with this kind of madness. And that's what it was. Madness. It was complete insanity and I couldn't take another minute of it. Looking back, I'm not exactly proud of abandoning Pinkie and the Cakes like that, but I couldn't stand to be in that shop anymore.

I practically fled back down the stairs and found Applejack just standing around aimlessly. Rainbow Dash and Rarity were nowhere to be seen. I ask her about where the two went and Applejack tells me they'd both gone home. They'd just up and left while I was upstairs. And that was the last straw. I snapped. I grabbed Applejack, rushed out of Sugarcube Corner and basically hunted the other down.

Once I had them all back together I kind of exploded and ended up saying a lot of things I didn't really mean. I won't repeat it all here, but suffice it to say I have some very deep regrets about how things played out. I was scared, I was stressed, I was hot, and I was tired, but none of that excuses the horrible things I said. I all but marched the rest of the girls up to Cloudsdale to continue our search for Fluttershy, but we never found her.

By the time we'd swept about half the cloud city I'd felt so guilty about what I'd done that I just let the rest of the girls go home and finished up the search on my own. I also checked Ponyville, Fluttershy's cottage, and the Everfree again, but I had no more luck than yesterday. Nothing of note really happened after that.

I came back home with nothing to show for everything I'd done and went through. It was already getting pretty late when I got back to my castle and Spike was, naturally, asleep. I let him be and collapsed into bed, but since I'm here writing all this down, that whole sleeping plan hasn't worked out for me yet. I just have too many things on my mind. Way too many things.

What's bugging me the most right now is that I just seem to be entirely unaffected by all of this. Well, maybe not entirely. This mess is definitely taking a toll on my mind—just not in the way I'm seeing in everypony else. There was also that dream I had, but I don't know if that means anything. I'd actually completely forgotten about it until I heard Pinkie's rhyme? Prayer?

Whatever it was, it brought the few details I remembered before about my dream back to the forefront of my mind. What was that? Where did she even hear something like that? And what did those words mean? Well, the phrase was pretty self-evident for the most part. Don't look at the sun because it's bad for your eyes. I get that much, but what was that about the mind coming undone?

Was Pinkie trying to imply that it actually is the sun making everypony crazy? Anypony with eyes could see that much, but I feel like the words are referring to something more sinister than just the scorching sun. Then again, it might've just all been nonsense. Pinkie Pie being Pinkie Pie and all that.

Yeah, not likely.

With what I've seen around town—with what I saw in Sugarcube Corner—there's no way I can believe this is all just simple weather related shenanigans. I just wish I had more answers, and I think it might be best to try and get them from Pinkie herself. I basically ran away from her, but I can't, in good conscience, let her stay that way. If she has any idea about what's going on, I need to suck it up and confront the mare.

But before that, I need to sleep. I have no earthly idea what's going on with anything happening in that town, and ruminating on it all night isn't going to me. Sleep would be very helpful right now. I'm looking at the clock and I've been writing for so long that it's already Saturday. At this rate, I'll need to use a spell to knock myself out. Not something I wanted to do considering how imprecise the spell is, but I'll take oversleeping over no sleep at all.

Entry #4

Sunday – 10:12am

Had some trouble waking up today. Even now, my limbs still feel a bit heavy and my joints are kind of stiff, so I'm a little concerned about that. Might be that I'm not as “above it all” as I thought I was, but I suppose only time will tell. I have other things to keep my mind occupied. Probably more important things.

I had another dream the night before. More of a nightmare, really—a nightmare about the sun.

Just like the first dream, most of this nightmare got lost somewhere in my subconsciousness, but I remember the important bits. I remember the absolute darkness and how it gave way to searing light. I remember how it ascended into the sky, that sun that was not a sun. I remember the terrible heat, the innumerable voices and their agonized screams.

I never saw the fire—or if I did, I don't recall—but I do remember the sound, like the crackling blaze of a funeral pyre. And then there was silence. No whispers. Just silence and the wretched, burning heat.

I woke up screaming that morning.

Looking back, I realize something. It just gets hotter and hotter every day, and yet, I never once thought to actually get a good look at the sun outside. I often forget I can do that now, being an alicorn and all. Luna and I may not have Celestia's preternatural resistance to the blistering heat of the sun, but evidently, we are impervious to its blinding glare.

So, I took a gander at that big bright star in the sky when I woke up yesterday, and you know what? It doesn't look right. No, maybe I should say it doesn't feel right. I can't put it into words. The sun looks just as it does every other day, but now when I look at the sun, I feel like there's an otherness to it. Like there's something sinister slithering around just beneath the surface.

When I look at the sun, I'm reminded of the thing I saw in my dream. That thing in the sky pretending to be the sun. I can't recall what it looks like anymore—the memory of its features had already vanished when I woke up—but now I can't bear to even cast my gaze up at the sky. I did manage to put the nightmare behind me for the most part, but not before sending a letter to Celestia.

I decided to take a more proactive approach to everything yesterday, but that didn't really end up doing me much good in the end. I was already going to send a letter to Celestia about all of this madness after I talked to Pinkie, but there were two factors that thoroughly reshuffled my priorities. The first was the nightmare. That was no normal nightmare.

If anything, it felt more like some horrifying prophetic vision. Considering the implications regarding the sun, I figured Celestia might know something. And the second factor was Spike—well, not just Spike, but that's a topic for a little later. So, I tried to wake Spike so that I could use his dragonflame to send my letter, but no matter what I did, I couldn't wake him up.

I'm no doctor, but I have dabbled in neuroscience. Unfortunately, my lab was destroyed when Tirek blew up the Golden Oaks Library. Buried the whole thing under a pile of rubble. I haven't gotten around to setting up a new lab in my castle, either, so I have no way of doing any proper scans of Spike's brain. Still, from what I can tell after some non-intrusive observations, it seems like Spike is stuck somewhere between a standard sleep cycle and a coma.

He's completely unresponsive and what's more, his scales are incredibly warm to the touch. Too warm, even for a dragon. This was alarming enough, but after what I discovered later that day, this whole mess has me all the more worried. As things stood, I couldn't use Spike to send my letter, so I had to send it off using my own magic. I don't like to do it because the distance makes the spell incredibly draining, but the alternative was to head all the way to Canterlot to deliver the letter in person.

While that was an option, I wasn't quite that desperate yet—not like I am now. I still had other options, namely getting back in touch with Pinkie Pie. I also took the opportunity to try and reach out to Discord about Fluttershy, but the draconequus never responded. There's not really an established method of getting in contact with Discord, but we all learned that the lord of chaos is always listening—or that's what he says, at any rate.

He's usually pretty good about replying to any kind of summons, usually if for no other reason than to be a nuisance to the summoner. But this time, there was no response whatsoever. And I was going to mention this a little later down the page, but now seems as good a time as any to mention that I never got a response back from Celestia either. I waited all day yesterday, but nothing. Not a peep.

At first, I thought it might be because of Spike's condition, but I know the messaging spell tied to his dragonflame would've activated regardless. Celestia knows that too, and I was half hoping her response would jolt him out of his semi-comatose state. No such luck there. In a last ditch attempt to get some kind of help, I sent another letter to Luna before I went to bed last night, but I haven't gotten a response back from her either.

Which means that unless I make the trip to Canterlot, I'm completely on my own here. My friends won't help me. They can't anymore. Rainbow, Applejack, and Rarity have all gone the way of Mr. and Mrs. Cake. Rainbow Dash locked herself away in her cloud house, babbling on and on to herself about how “Fluttershy will turn up eventually. Just hang in there, Rainbow. Be patient. She'll show up, just you wait.” in that same hauntingly slow and monotonous tone.

Rarity had closed and locked up the boutique, so I teleported myself inside. I found her holed up in her private studio sewing away like a mare possessed. Piled high around the mare were golden yellow robes of all sizes. Some were made of silk and some of natural cotton, but all the robes were incredibly simple in their design—almost insultingly so. Rarity didn't seem to care and just kept feeding thread into the sewing machine.

The unicorn looked awful—like she hadn't slept in weeks, but there was an eerie fervor in her eyes. A madness that demanded she never stop working. Not for anything or anypony. I saw this, recognized what it meant, and tried to stop her anyway. I had to give up because things had very nearly gotten violent, but I did manage to catch her attention long enough for her to ask me for a favor.

It was a simple request. All she wanted me to do was give one of the robes in the pile to Sweetie Belle. She told me she'd made it for her. She told me she'd made robes for everypony in Ponyville. She was so excited about it. Positively ecstatic. I asked her what the robes were for—why she'd made them. She turns to me with this smile full of pride and exhaustion.

“Why, they're for the big pyre, dear. Didn't you know?”

She says it like it's supposed to be obvious. Like we're talking about the Summer Sun Celebration. I heard those words and all I could think about was that nightmare. That vision. And then I left. Dropped the robe she gave me and fled, really. I raced off to Sweetie Belle's room, guided by a hunch, or some sense of foreboding, and found the filly in her bed.

She wasn't dead, mind you, just asleep. Sleeping like the dead, but not cold like the dead. No, her little body was warm. Too warm. Far too warm.

I left Carousel Boutique without another word. I just teleported away, and then I ran. I didn't look back, I didn't look up. I just ran, and I didn't stop running until I reached Sweet Apple Acres. While I was running, I very nearly ran into Big Mac. The massive stallion didn't even seem to notice. He just kept plodding along like an automaton toward the large shed next to the farmhouse, dragging an old wheelbarrow with a bit of dirt and a dirty shovel in it behind him.

I asked him where Applejack was, not really expecting an answer, but he answered me. Without so much as a glance in my direction, he mumbled out a gruff “In the house.” and then proceeded to ignore all of my follow-up questions after that. I didn't let it bother me and just left to find Applejack. I wanted to believe things were at least somewhat okay, but they weren't. Far from it.

I didn't see Granny Smith anywhere, but I did find Applejack quickly enough. She was in Apple Bloom's room, and when I found her, I discovered that my flight from the boutique was entirely pointless. I ran all that way just to find the same miserable scenario waiting for me. Applejack was there, and so was Apple Bloom, lying in her bed, dead to the world.

Just the same as Spike. Just the same as Sweetie Belle. Likely the same as the Cake twins and any other foal in Ponyville. But now Applejack was here, and even now, I don't know whether that made things worse or better. If she heard me enter the room, she didn't say anything about it. She just stood over Apple Bloom, stroking her mane and muttering reassurances the filly probably couldn't hear.

“Gonna be alright,” she kept saying, “gonna get through this. Be right as rain come the mornin', don't you worry now, sugarcube.”

I didn't even bother to grab Applejack's attention. I didn't bother to think too hard about what Big Mac was thinking or where Granny Smith went. I just left Sweet Apple Acres and made my way to Sugarcube Corner. Inside, I was surprised to find Mr. Cake standing behind the counter as if ready to greet incoming customers. The surprise didn't last long, and neither did the hope. Upon closer inspection, I saw that there was absolutely nothing behind the stallion's eyes.

I have no idea what made him go downstairs and act like a proper shopkeep, but I had a feeling it wasn't a conscious decision. I quickly deduced that I wouldn't get anywhere with Mr. Cake and headed upstairs. I went straight for Pinkie's room, then walked right past it to Mr. and Mrs. Cake's bedroom. There, I saw Mrs. Cake in bed. She was facing away from me, so I couldn't see her face. At first, I thought she might've suffered the same fate as Spike and the other foals, but that wasn't the case.

When I moved around to the other side of the bed to get a better look, I saw that the mare's eyes were open and locked on the window. More Specifically, on the sun shining through the window. Like Mr. Cake, there was nothing there to see in that tepid gaze. Nothing but the sun. In the twin's room, I saw exactly what I expected to see. The two foals were unconscious, unresponsive, and burning up.

But they were alive.

That had to count for something, right? I sure hoped so. I took a moment to just watch the two foals, letting my mind drift to a time before the world went mad. The peaceful thoughts didn't last nearly long enough before my brain told me to stop stalling and go see Pinkie. With nothing more to do here, I trudged up to Pinkie's door and gave a tentative knock, but I didn't get an answer.

In fact, I didn't hear the earth pony at all. I knocked again and called out to her, but silence was the only response. I waffled a bit, trying to decide whether to just teleport into the room or not. I'd resolved to do just that if it came down to it before, but now that I was there, I faltered. I still didn't want to go in there. After having to deal with the others, I just wanted to go home and cry.

But I didn't. Somehow, I managed to get over myself and teleported into Pinkie's room. When I looked around and saw that she was nowhere to be found, I could only laugh. Of course, she wouldn't be there. Why did I expect any less? Why, when everything else this week has gone to Tartarus, would I be given a break now? Why hope? Why not just lie down and accept that this is all pointless?

Because Fluttershy's still out there somewhere.

I'm scared. I'm so scared that it makes me physically ill. I don't know what's going on. I have nopony to turn to right now. I feel like I'm losing my mind. The only reason my writing isn't an illegible mess is that I'm using an auto-inscription spell to take all this down. I can't focus enough to do my own writing otherwise.

But despite that, and as much as I wanted to just give up and fall into my own coma just so I don't have to deal with all of this, I can't stop. Not while I haven't exhausted all my options yet. I have some suspicions about what might've happened to Fluttershy, and if they turn out to be true, I might not find her at all, but nothing is concrete yet. Pinkie is missing, but that doesn't necessarily mean she disappeared the same way Fluttershy did.

The fact that neither Celestia nor Luna nor even Discord has contacted me at all since this all started in itself might be indicative of a larger problem beyond Ponyville. I already saw that the pegasi in Cloudsdale are being affected just the same. Who's to say the same madness isn't affecting everypony in Canterlot or Manehattan? I don't know if I can handle that. If this is a widespread issue, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want to think about it.

I'm not going to think about it.

No, I'm going to wait a bit longer to see if Celestia or Luna respond to my letters, and if not, then I'll find Pinkie. Then, whether I find the mare or not, I'll go to Canterlot myself to find out what's going on. I think that's about all I can do now. I just hope things aren't as bad in Canterlot. But with how things have gone so far, I can't help but expect the worst.

Royal Records #1 – Dreamwalker Logs

6/27

The atmosphere within the Dream Realm has been rather strange recently. I am unsure of the cause or what it is that I am feeling exactly, but I believe this odd shift in dreamspace bodes ill tidings to come somehow. This ominous atmosphere has yet to infect any of the dreams within the Dream Realm, but it would be remiss of me not to investigate further if possible. If I leave this be, I may be too late to stop a disaster I could have easily prevented.

I initially feared the possible return of the Tantabus, but, while certainly vile, this is not the same breed of malevolence. This feels far more ancient. Far more alien. The weight that has settled upon this Realm feels oppressive and warm, oddly enough, but not malevolent. Not like the Tantabus. In fact, I don't sense any kind of intent whatsoever. If this is some kind of presence, it is a strange and disturbing one. It wants for nothing. It simply is, and nothing more.

Whatever this is, it carries weight, but it's still too faint within the Dream Realm to be of dire concern. Still, I fear it will grow stronger if left alone, so I will uphold my duties as Princess of the Night and Dreamwalker and seek out the source of this anomaly. I just pray that this is not the Tantabus given some horrible new form.

6/28

The ominous shift within the Dream Realm is almost certainly the work of something that doesn't belong there. Its presence is getting stronger, just as I feared, but I still have yet to find the source. The unsettling presence is still relatively weak compared to my own, but it somehow manages to blanket the dreamscape like a tyrannical veil. Worse still is that I was unable to breach the dreams of several of mine and my sister's subjects during the previous night's dreamwalking session.

It was as if their dreams were shrouded in a deep, impenetrable fog, through which I could not find my way. This worries me, especially because, of those whose dreams I could not access, three of the Elements of Harmony were among them—and of those three, one of them was missing from the dreamscape entirely. Disturbingly, the rest of those whom I was unable to reach were foals. I do not know what this means, but the implications worry me greatly.

One other oddity that worries me is that the Dream Realm seems to be getting warmer, almost as if to reflect the summer heat of the waking world. As I reflect upon my own thoughts on the matter, I find myself musing on my sister's unusual behavior as of late. Celestia is distant. Distracted. Something is bothering her, and when I think about what it could be, I'm reminded of the brief discussion we had following her belated sunrise. I have not confronted her on the issue, but perhaps I think it's time we talked—both about the Dream Realm, and about her concerns.

6/29

The presence is stronger now. Much stronger. In the Dream Realm, I can feel it pressing down on me like the weight of a mountain. I know not what it is, but I can hear its foul whispers permeating the entire dreamscape, incomprehensible and otherworldly. I'm all but certain this alien presence is the cause of the inexplicable heat plaguing the dreamscape, and I fear it may be the same for the irregular rise in temperature in the waking world as well.

More and more dreams are being hidden from me, and I assume that this too is the elusive presence at work. I have yet to find the source in the Dream Realm, but I have reason to believe that the forces at work may be external in nature. I've begun to notice strange occurrences in the waking world as well. It is as if a pall of ennui has fallen over the castle staff, and upon further investigation, it appears to be affecting the rest of Canterlot as well.

It is not every citizen, but it is enough to give me pause. Even more concerning is my sister and her actions. Celestia is shirking her duties outright, refusing to open Day Court in favor of locking herself away in her private study for who knows what purpose. I attempted to consult her regarding the Dream Realm and her behavior, but was swiftly rebuffed. I am beginning to suspect that she not only hasn't a care for the potential threat facing Equestria, but, in fact, may be part of the problem.

When I spoke to her, Celestia was uncharacteristically irritable—treating me and anypony else who approached her as if they were nothing more than bothersome flies. Her distance and distraction seemed to have turned to obsession, but over what I do not know. When she isn't hidden away in her study, she is scouring the Royal Archives. The only duty she hasn't abandoned is pushing the sun upon its intended course—though she seems hesitant to do even that.

Even now, so late at night, I can hear her in her study, speaking hushed words to seemingly nopony at all. Try as I might, I cannot make out what she says, and though it may be the stress of the situation, her intelligible words sound eerily close to the unsettling whispers I've started to hear within the Dream Realm.

6/30

There's something in the Dream Realm.

More than just some malicious presence, there is something in there, and it burns like the sun. Upon entering the dreamscape, I caught but a glimpse, and that was enough to force me back out. There are no words for what I saw in the Dream Realm. It was a mere glimpse and yet, the simple memory of it haunts me. Too bright. Too hot. And the screams. The screams. There was no peace. There were no dreams.

There was only fire and the agonized screams of the young thrown upon the pyre of something that does not belong in this world. Little ones, consumed in eldritch flames and yet unable to die or cry out for help, and there is nothing I can do. In the waking world, those same foals lie in their beds in a deep slumber that is not slumber. Their bodies are at peace but their minds—nay, their very souls burn endlessly in unearthly flames wrought by some fathomless entity.

The sun burns brighter in the sky, my dear sister, and your little ponies have taken notice. But it is not the sun, is it? It is not your sun. Not anymore. When I look to the sky, I see not your beautiful, radiant star, but a pale imitation. A brittle facade that hides within a hungry beast that burns the minds and souls of the young, and likely soon to be all the rest, to fuel its foul existence.

7/1

Tell me why, dear sister.

What do you know of this alien monstrosity? Why, when you were so hesitant to raise the sun before, do you now do so with eyes so hollow and a smile so wide? Why have you sealed yourself away from the rest of the world? Have you no care for the fate of your subjects? Does this thing have you in its thrall, like everypony else? What am I meant to do? Would you have me play the role of Nightmare Moon once more? Am I to attempt to cast the false sun down myself? Drown the world in night eternal?

I wonder, sister, what would you do?

How would you respond?

How would it respond?

7/2

Not enough.

Need more helpneedmorekindling

Royal Records #2 – Research Notes

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 21

The summer solstice is upon us, meaning my thaumic connection to the sun is at its strongest, but something is amiss. The link is too strong, and beyond that, the connection feels tainted. Warped somehow. I have no words to properly explain what I felt, but it made the process of raising the sun more difficult than it ought to have been. Worse still, is that when I finally did manage to pull the sun into the sky—when I laid my eyes upon that blazing star—I wasn't quite certain of what I was looking at.

That alone was unsettling enough, but upon reaching out to the star that should have been as familiar to me as my own magic, I could swear I heard a voice. A sibilant, sinister susurrus somewhere in the back of my mind. I may have imagined it. Perhaps I did. That is my hope in any case, but experience tells me this might be something to worry about. I've yet to tell Luna beyond a vague inquiry regarding the sun itself.

Still, my sister is perceptive to my moods and has suggested I take some time for myself. After giving it some thought, I chose to take her up on that suggestion. Rather than relax in my bedchamber, however, I've decided to stay here in my private study to document this morning's experience. While I feel it's too soon to start jumping at shadows, I also feel that this is too portentous to ignore completely.

Maybe Luna is right, and perhaps I have been overworking myself lately. I pray that is all it is, but it never hurts to prepare for the worst should it come to pass. I will keep the record of what transpired this morning, should I need to refer to it at a later date for any reason. I will also continue to document any further oddities should they occur.

MONDAY, JUNE 26

With nearly a week gone by, I feel I have plenty of reason to believe my previously documented events were no mere exhaustion or any other trick of the mind. While I lack tangible proof of my claims of what transpired, I'm beginning to doubt the proof will be necessary. For the past week, I've studied my connection to the sun, and I can say with absolute confidence that something is interfering with the link, corrupting it in a way I don't understand.

Upon closer inspection of this corruption, I've come to realize that whatever is affecting my solar link is less like some recent infection and more like an old wound re-opened. Once again, my explanation fails to encompass the entirety of what I mean, but I believe that this corruption may be something old. Something that was already present and hidden until now.

With each passing day, my connection grows stronger, and the whispers grow louder. Clearer. I feel I can almost understand what's being said, but I'm not quite there yet. The voice unsettles me, but perhaps I can use it to gain an understanding of what's happened to my precious star. I've yet to explain the situation to my sister for fear that she will deny my claims as ridiculous or perhaps, even mad.

Maybe I am being ridiculous. Maybe I should tell Luna, but no. Not yet. Not until I've learned more about what I'm dealing with. Now that I know there might be more to this, I can start doing some real research. Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in the past.

TUESDAY, JUNE 27

I've spent every bit of spare time afforded to me searching the Royal Archives for any information regarding the sun. Specifically, I've been trying to uncover any information related to the time before I inherited my role in raising the sun. I gathered a number of promising texts, but so far, I've only come across details already known to me and much of the Canterlot Historical Society.

I was not granted much time to sort through all of what I've collected, but I don't think I'll find the answers I'm looking for in these particular tomes. I doubt I'll find anything of use in the Public Wing of the archives at all, in fact. I know of the Celestial Cycle ritual enacted by the Church of the Astral Wheel. The inheritance of that ritual was the basis for mine and my sister's rise to the throne.

It was a burden neither of us wanted. It was a burden Star Swirl tried his best to protect us from, though we never knew at the time. Once our talents manifested, it was only a matter of time before the Church sought us out, believing my sister and I divine beings born to rule the land. Alas, when Star Swirl left to fight a great evil alongside the other Pillars of Harmony, Luna and I were left alone, and responsibility found us soon after.

We agreed to take the throne, but only if the faithful renounced their faith and disbanded the Church entirely. They were all too happy to do so, but as the Church of the Astral Wheel vanished from history, they took a great deal of their records with them. Most of the Astral Wheel's scriptures are lost to time, but some documents yet remain, buried somewhere deep in the restricted section of the Royal Archives.

I would have likely burned the rest of those scriptures had I known some still remained, but it was a retainer who stumbled across the records and stored them away. By the time I learned of this, I had already outgrown my grudge against the Church. I left the documents to rot away in the archives, putting them out of my mind. I thought I'd never have to think about the Church of the Astral Wheel ever again, but it seems the time has come to unearth that mare's nest.

I'd never bothered to learn the secret behind the Ritual of the Celestial Cycle. With my innate ability to raise the sun and Luna's ability to raise the moon, there was no need to look into the matter. But now I need all the knowledge I can get before it's too late. I can hear the whispers clearly now. The voice pushes against my mind, whispering of flames and hunger. I see the sun, and it looks hollow, but not empty.

For the first time since the night I had to banish my beloved sister to the moon, I am truly and wholly afraid.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 28

The Church of the Astral Wheel was nothing more than a lie. A cult of psychopaths giving obeisance to some ancient monstrosity from beyond the stars. All their holy scriptures, their teachings about the cosmic clock and the heavenly balance of the sun and moon, and that Ritual of the Celestial Cycle. All of it was nothing more than a front to hide the Church's true purpose.

Even after searching the oldest, deepest depths of the Royal Archive's restricted section, I was unable to find what I was looking for. I realized I wouldn't find the anwers in Canterlot Castle, so I chose to broaden my search. Unbeknownst to my sister or the rest of the castle staff, I made my way to the Old Castle in the Everfree via long-range teleportation, and it was deep within that antediluvian ruin that I finally found the answers I'd been searching for.

Not all records from the earlier days of our reign were carried over when my sister and I moved the Equestrian capital to Mount Canterhorn. Whether by design or simple neglect, some ancient documents were left behind, lost and forgotten. Among those lost and forgotten records of the past, I stumbled upon a tattered and mostly illegible codex and a threadbare bit of woolen tapestry.

The title of the codex reads Sè Mærsungæled, or, when translated from Old Ponish, the Great Conflagration. Even with my considerable thaumic knowledge and prowess, I was unable to fully restore the tome to prime condition. The book's age far exceeds what modern restoration spells can handle. I managed to keep the tome from falling apart completely, but much of the grimoire remains illegible.

What little of the codex I could read makes little sense without the proper context, but there is enough here to make some inferences. On the surface, the Church preaches of cosmic balance and the astral cycle we all must adhere to, but those teachings are a smokescreen perpetuated by the Church's inner circle. If the title of the codex isn't evidence enough, the Celestial Cycle Ritual in this ancient manuscript is instead referred to as the “Solar Ascension Ritual”.

I've had to piece together the rest from the remaining scraps of information contained within the codex. The rest of what I've gathered is essentially bits of some kind of creation myth, as far as I can tell. The tome speaks of some all-powerful cosmic being the Church calls the “Great Pyre”, and how it traveled across the stars to bring the gifts of light and life to this once dark and desolate world.

More context is missing, but, in essence, the Great Pyre grew weak after granting its gifts to the world. With the last of its strength, the cosmic being sacrificed a piece of its own incandescent flesh to form a vessel. Within that vessel, the Great Pyre is said to reside, fallen into a death-like slumber until the day it can be reborn anew—or so the codex claims.

The only other piece of information I could glean from the codex was regarding the nurturing of the vessel, but it doesn't say how or even what that really means. Given what I already know and what I've felt for myself, I can come to my own conclusions. As if the implications within the codex weren't horrifying enough, the Church tried to immortalize their solar deity in threaded wool.

The tapestry, time-worn as it is, doesn't depict the whole image, but what remains is, frankly, hideous. An eldritch amalgamation of flesh and fire and madness. I have some doubts and suspicions about what I've read, but if this is what their god truly looks like, then it is hardly a surprise that the Church chose to hide their true faith. Then again, the truly zealous would spread the word of their faith regardless of the consequences.

With that mind, what reason would they have to hide the existence of the Great Pyre? Does it have something to do with “nurturing the vessel”, or is the answer somewhere in all the unreadable text? As I ponder these questions, there are more that come to mind—more questions that leave me ill-at-ease. The question of why Luna and I can raise and lower the sun and moon has long gone unanswered.

I had always assumed it had something to do with our powerful magic and all around alicorn nature, but now I'm wondering if that's true. With what I know now, I find the behavior of the Church upon discovering our talents even more suspicious and unnerving. Looking back, it was almost as if they'd known. Not about us, specifically, but about the birth of somepony who could manipulate the movement of celestial bodies.

It was like they'd been waiting for that day to come.

And what of Star Swirl? What did he know about the situation? I only realized through his interactions with the Church that he was trying to protect us in hindsight, but somehow I never stopped to ask myself why or what he was protecting us from. None of what I've found gives me an answer to these questions. But more than that—more than anything—why does the creature depicted on that tapestry evoke such a strong sense of familiarity?

Clearly, there's more research that needs to be done. More truths to uncover. But I'm at a loss as to how to continue. Perhaps I should try to go about this from a different angle entirely. Whatever I decide to do, I need to keep myself focused. Busy. If I don't, I find it much harder to ignore the whispers. And I'm going to burn that tapestry to cinders. Not only is it horrendous, but the whispers grow louder whenever I so much as glance in its direction.

Think of it as an offering if you like, but either way, I can't stand to look at that thing anymore.

THURSDAY, JUNE 29

I try to block them out, but the whispers are getting harder and harder to ignore. They're getting louder, more insistent, more impatient. TheGreatPyreiswakingup. I can feel it through my connection to the vessel. I can see it when I turn my gaze to the sky. My subjects have taken notice, and even Luna senses its presence within the Realm of Dreams. We all see it just as it sees us. It wants to feed, and I'm not enough anymore.

I've tried to focus on my research. I've tried so hard, but I can't concentrate, not like this. My research has hit a dead end, and I feel as though my sanity is waning by the hour. The Great Pyre is in my head, promising me answers. Promising me the truth. Promising me salvation. I just need to feed it. Nurture it. Just needtoaddmorekindlingtothefire and it will give me everything I want and more. It's a tempting offer, I have to admit.

So tempting. Too tempting.

I've exhausted every other resource I have at my disposal, and I need to know. I need to know. But I won't listen. I can't. My little ponies are already suffering as it is. If I give in, it won't make things better. The suntheheatthevessel is already doing so much damage, and it's getting harder to resist just leaving it up there in the sky. But no, I can't do that. The world will burntheworldmustburn.

Maybe I should cut myself off from the sunvessel completely. Let Luna take full control. Bring about that night eternal she so desperately wanted upon her return. But I can't do that either. Temperatures will drop. That would be bad for the environment. Ponies woulddiewastedkindlingtheworldmustburn. I don't know what to do. I can't think with all this noise. Sleep does me no good. Every time I close my eyes I see it. That thing.

It watches me. It won't let me go. It won't stop, not until I give up. Not until I give it what it wants. I'm tired. I'm scared, but I'm holding on. It's taking everything I have, but I'm holding on. I'll find out how to stop this madness without its help. It has no control over me. It has no control over me. I am my own mare. I am Princess Celestia. I am not fuel. I am not kindling. I wasn't born to feedthepyrethat is not why I exist. That is not my role. It can't be.

FRIDAY, JUNE 30

It's like an egg.

I can see all the little cracks.

Like a chick slowly poking out the brittle shell.

SATURDAY, JULY 1

SUNDAY, JULY 2

MONDAY, JULY 3

THERAVENOUSCONFLAGRATIONCOMESTOBATHTHEWORLDINFIRETHEPYREMUSTBEFEDTHEWORLDMUSTBURNTHETIMEISUPONUSTHEPIECESARESETITSTIMETOFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEEDFEED

I will fulfill my role.

Entry #6

Final Entry – --:--

I'm all alone.

The world is so quiet now. So peaceful. No screams. No whispers. No sounds of crackling flames. Nothing but absolute silence—like the calm before the storm.

It's strange.

I don't remember how I got here—to Canterlot, I mean. I remember falling asleep down in my castle's cellar, but when I came to, I was in Canterlot. Specifically, the road leading up to Canterlot Castle. My body was sore, my mind exhausted. I certainly felt like I'd flown for miles and miles, but I had no recollection of doing so. I still don't.

I racked my brain trying to figure out what was going on, but all I got was a horrid migraine and a single memory I'm not even sure was real. At least, I hope with every ounce of blood and harmony in my body that what I saw—what I did—wasn't real. No, it was probably just my mind playing tricks on me. Wouldn't be the first time. Even with the world gone mad, I'd never do something like that. Not to one of my friends. Not to Pinkie.

I want to believe that, but I can still see it, those blameless eyes, that sad, resigned smile. I can still smell her blackening, bubbling flesh and the ashes tickling my nose as the flames grew brighter and brighter. I remember the whispers so clearly. They were so loud. So joyous. So appreciative. I'd done a good thing. I fed the pyre, just like it wanted. Just like I was meant to. We were all meant to burn. At least, that's what the whispers told me.

But the whispers are gone now. Silent. Like they never existed. Like they were all just in my head. Everything is silent now. Canterlot is silent. It was silent when I got there. There were so many ponies on the street. So many voices gone quiet. They're all asleep now. Just like Spike. Luna's gone quiet, too. The only one who didn't fall asleep, aside from me, was Celestia. No, Celestia is gone now.

I made my way to the castle and found her on the balcony, just staring up at the sun. I might have joined her. I'm not really sure. She told me some things, though. A lot of things. It all seemed so ridiculous, but standing here now on this balcony beneath that blood-red sky, her words don't seem all that far-fetched. She talked about "cracks in the vessel" and an "imminent rebirth", but I didn't understand what she meant.

Not until the blinding glare of the sun started to dim.

That's when I saw them. The cracks. That's when I realized there might've been some merit to the insanity she was spouting. That was when she told me her role was finished. That was when she set herself on fire and burned to death right in front of me. She was smiling the entire time, that same motherly smile she always used to give me back when I was still her little protégé.

My memory of what happened immediately after that is a bit hazy, but I'm fairly sure I didn't take it very well. All I know for sure is that the constant whispers pressing at the back of my mind stopped after that. Now it's quiet, and in this strange world of ominous silence, my mind is oddly clear—maybe for the first time in days and likely for the last time. Why the slumber hasn't taken me like everypony else, I don't know.

Perhaps I'll never know, but as long as I remain relatively lucid, for however long it lasts, I figure I might as well make this final entry. It was no big feat to summon my journal from my castle, and there's nothing else left for me to do at this point. Luna and I had a plan, but that went up in smoke the moment I saw her sleeping form slumped over on her throne.

Now it's just me and my trusty journal.

Sitting here, I've had quite a bit of time to think. To reflect on everything that's happened over the last week and on everything that Celestia told me before her self-immolation. The Church, the Great Conflagration, the Great Pyre, Celestia's own role in some kind of prophecy. After thinking about all of this, I found myself coming back to one question.

Did Pinkie know? And if so, how?

Was she already aware of all of this? Is that why she acted the way she did? Is that why she was in the cave? Why she so willingly became a sacrifice? Was she dealing with this same despair that I feel now, even before the world turned to Tartarus? I'm sure there are several revelations to be had here, but this was all I could think about after all that reflection. I'll never get an answer now, so I suppose it doesn't matter.

I also thought about ending my own life at some point. I almost went through with it, too. I was far closer to throwing myself off the balcony than I care to admit, but ultimately, I chose not to go through with it. Not because I was afraid, but because I realized that wouldn't have been fair. It wouldn't have been right. If what Celestia told me was true, then all those sleeping ponies were suffering a fate far worse than death.

Fluttershy was one thing. She likely had no choice in her escape from all this madness. If I'm being honest, I envy her, wherever she is, but I can't just end it all knowing that everypony else won't get that same choice. Sure, there's Celestia and what she did, but that was no choice. Not really. It's for that reason that I resolved to see this "Great Conflagration" through to the end, whatever that end might actually be.

Maybe I'll finally join everypony else in that infernal slumber, maybe whatever is in that "vessel" will break out and burn me alive, maybe nothing will happen and I'll just go insane. I don't know, but in the time I've waited for the end to come, I've already documented everything Celestia told me and sent it all back to my cellar. Once I'm done writing all this down, the journal will go next.

My cellar is so heavily enchanted that I'm almost certain anything in there will survive whatever the Great Pyre has in store. I do all this in the hope that, once this all over, maybe somepony will remain to discover what happened here. I'm not sure what state I left the cellar in, but it should have sealed itself off after I failed to return. Getting in won't be easy, but as long as whoever finds it has some skill in magical wards or enchantments, they should be able to open it eventually.

And with that, I don't think there's anything more to be said here. It's just as well, because the temperature is rising again. It's actually getting harder to focus on words. More cracks inthe Sunvessel. Flames. Burning. FalseSun. Heatis unbearablesohot notime leftplease be okay fluttershy

imso sorry pink

RIDES Field Report #12265-048

RIDES EXPEDITIONARY ASSIGNMENT #308-B

DIMENSION#: 12265

PLANET: EQUUS-048

VARIANT: Post-Apocalypse

HABITABLE: No

EXPEDITION SQUAD#: 19

MEMBERS

Prof. Arcana Ungula (Squad Leader/Professor of Arcane Studies/Agency Researcher)

Dr. Time Turner (Doctor of Engineering/Agency Researcher)

Prof. Rock Salt (Professor of Archaeology/Agency Researcher)

Winter Pine (Protective Services Detail)

Basil Brickhoof (Protective Services Detail)

MISSION BRIEFING:

This expedition has been officially approved and sanctioned by the Crown and assigned by the Head of the Royal Interdimensional Expedition Squads. The expedition to EQUUS-048 (hereafter referred to as EQ-048) is to be carried out by no less than five members of Expedition Squad 19. As EQ-048 has been deemed an inhospitable post-apocalyptic variant, Squad 19 has been ordered to focus its efforts on research and the retrieval of potential resources only.

Dimensional anchor (drop zone) has been attached to Section A-1 and personnel retrieval beacons have been placed in Sections A-1, A-3, A-4, B-1, B-4 and C-3. Please remember that any ventures beyond predetermined locations of interest are ill-advised and may lead to potential casualties. Protocol 7 is to be enacted should any squad member lose access to their Comms and Liminal Translocation (CoLT) device.

Please note that a RIDES personnel retrieval team will be sent if no contact is received from expedition squad within 14 days of initial deployment.

RIDES FIELD REPORT #12265-048

Report written by Prof. Arcana Ungula and reviewed by Director Spin Wave. Please bear in mind that all information held within this document is classified and to be viewed by RIDES personnel only. Breach of information protocol may result in actions up to and including Class 4 reflection deflection and termination of employment with RIDES agency.

Field Report – Day 1

The first thing we noticed upon stepping onto EQ-048 via the dimensional drop zone was the horrendously pervasive heat. The air was so hot, in fact, that we had to cut our first trip short and return to the lab to readjust the temp balancers in our suits before heading back through the warp. The miscalculation on our part nearly cost Dr. Turner his life, but thankfully no lasting harm was done.

Still, the heat remains highly uncomfortable even with the proper adjustments. I've yet to confirm my suspicions, but I believe such penetrative heat may be thaumic in nature. Other potential signs that might point to some great unnatural armageddon can be seen in the environment itself. We saw the images of this Equestria before our deployment, but none of what we saw on those thaumic monitors could compare to the reality of seeing this world with our own eyes.

We were meant to arrive in the heart of what was once Canterlot, but all structures have been worn down nearly to their very foundations. What little of the city that remains is blackened with soot and ash so thick it falls from the sky and covers the ground like winter snow. It's not just the ponymade structures, either. Everything has been scorched black, from the very stone itself to the many charred equine bones Prof. Rock Salt uncovered beneath all the ash.

Horrifying as that discovery might have been, there is more to worry about—particularly where the atmosphere is concerned. Bright white-yellow embers still glow amidst all the ash and soot, and the black sky is blanketed in a kind of wispy, almost blood-red mist or haze of some kind. All of this can be seen in the aforementioned photos taken via the drone Dr. Time Turner sent through, but there is one discovery we seemed to have missed.

Through the dark red haze, barely visible to the naked eye, I noticed what I can only guess was the remains of a planet of some kind. It could also be what was left of the moon, but I have my doubts for a few reasons, the biggest being that the celestial body is far too large in comparison to our own Equestria's moon. I've already taken photos of the potential planet and will send them back to the lab at the first opportunity.

I will continue to refer to the celestial body as a planet going forward, at least until we know more. The planet itself appears to be cracked open right down to the core, with several large fractures marring its surface like glowing lines of magma. It looks almost as if it were struck by another, smaller planet or perhaps a natural satellite like the moon. I have a few theories about what may have happened, but all of it is mere speculation and isn't worth documenting at this stage.

Strangely, the core is much dimmer than what I would have expected, but then I am no astronomer, so I can't say for sure. Perhaps Dr. Bray can make sense of it once I send the photos back. Either way, these are all just my initial observations, and there's still much to be uncovered. At Dr. Turner's suggestion, we will be heading further up the mountain to Section A-3 to investigate whatever is left of Canterlot Castle.

Field Report – Day 2

We've completed our investigation in Canterlot. Unfortunately, though Canterlot Castle withstood whatever calamity befell this land better than the rest of the city, it wasn't by much. It appears any documents or other resources of interest or import were lost, just the same as everything else in Canterlot. Though, Dr. Rock Salt believes he discovered the skeletal remains of an alicorn—charred black like all the others, but intact for the most part.

According to the archaeologist, the dimensions of the skeleton seem to be a perfect match for Subject SELENA (this alternate instance will hereafter be referred to as SLNA-048). At the highest point of Mount Canterhorn, we saw that the landscape far below was much the same as Canterlot. Nothing but ash, embers, and soot as far as the eye can see. It's almost as if the entire world were put to the torch.

On a personal note, I find it all both incredibly unsettling and utterly fascinating. I can't help but wonder what catastrophe could have resulted in such complete devastation.

Beyond Rock Salt's discovery of the alicorn remains, there was nothing more of note to find in Canterlot. Once we consolidated and cataloged our findings, we engaged our CoLT devices and moved our camp to Section B-1, located in what was once central Ponyville. We found the city left in a similar state to Canterlot; however, I took some time to do some personal research back at camp and learned a few things.

As I previously surmised, the heat testing our endurance even now is wholly unnatural. I was correct in my assumption that this was not simple thermal radiation, yet neither is this radiation thaumic in nature. I've determined that the red haze above may be the source of this mysterious energy, but beyond that, I am at a loss.

I've attempted an atmospheric scan, but am unable to get a proper reading due to an exponential increase in temperature at higher altitudes. I've documented the details of my research in full (see Documents EqA-01 through EqA-07), and will continue my investigation into the anomalous energy in greater detail once we return. It's becoming increasingly clear that the atmospheric conditions are more severe than we initially estimated.

A second expedition with Tier 3 or possibly Tier 4 equipment will likely be required. With our temp balancers active, the heat does little to do us any actual harm beyond discomfort, but the same can't be said for our current Tier 2 equipment. At most, we'll only be able to continue this expedition for another day or two before needing to return to the lab for repairs.

On a separate note, both Dr. Rock Salt and Winter Pine have come to me with claims of hearing disembodied voices on the wind. Strange whispers, pained screams, and pitiful sobs that come and go with little warning, the noises faint but clearly audible. The two claim they started to hear the voices as they neared Section B-4.

Dr. Time Turner stayed behind with Brickhoof to investigate, and I chose to regroup, as I wasn't making any headway in my own research at that point. Section B-4 put us right at the edge of the Everfree Forest, which, in this case, was a wasteland of ash and pitch-black stumps of charcoal that still burned bright orange after who knows how long.

I, too, began to hear those same voices as we moved past the southern edge of town and into the Everfree. Though we were all subjected to this paranormal occurrence, we suffered no physical, mental, or spiritual attacks, so we pressed on deeper into the burned out forest. All the while, Dr. Time Turner attempted to extrapolate the audio from the ambient noise to try and make sense of what we were hearing.

His attempts to parse the words were unsuccessful; however, we did learn that the voices carried a thaumic frequency that grew stronger the deeper into the forest we traveled. After roughly an hour of travel, the voices began to grow louder and were now accompanied by a sound akin to a crackling fire. Winter Pine, and I also began to experience stage 1 migraines.

This was likely a direct result of the increase in the strange thaumic frequency. Given that we were both unicorns and thus more sensitive to shifts in thaumic frequency, this was a logical conclusion, though only an educated guess on my part admittedly. The last change we noticed was the steady rise in temperature.

Dr. Turner believes this, along with the increasing thaumic frequency, to be some manner of mental attack, as the temperature readings from our suits remain steady. No change can be seen in the atmospheric temperature or our own internal temperature, yet we can all feel the air growing steadily warmer.

Guessing there might be some kind of major anomaly further up ahead, we shored up our mental resistance and resolved to push on. Our condition held stable for another hour or so until we reached a large gorge, at which point our situation worsened drastically. The heat had grown nigh unbearable and the migraines had moved into the third stage. We could all hear the voices as if surrounded by hundreds of screaming ponies.

Unable to bear the pain any longer, Winter Pine and I were forced to return to camp. However, I was able to pinpoint the source of the thaumic frequency before our retreat. The signal originated from a cave somewhere further down into the gorge. We found a way down, but I would have to leave the rest to Dr. Rock Salt, Dr. Time Turner, and Basil Brickhoof.

Though they suffered the same setbacks, it was to a more endurable extent. So, Winter Pine and I warped back to camp to recover while the rest of the team made their way down to the cave. We didn't have to wait long before they all returned, each pony pale faced and sweating.

At first, I thought the mental assault had grown too strong for them to handle, and perhaps I was right, but there was more. I could see it in their terror-stricken faces. They had seen something in that cave, something that sent them fleeing for their lives. Both Rock Salt and Brickhoof refused to speak of what they saw, and what little I was able to get out of Dr. Turner was baffling to say the least.

All I could glean was something about a withered tree scorched black and the skeletal remains of a pony tangled within its twisted branches. I didn't quite understand, and the Doctor wouldn't explain any further, but his mention of a tree in a cave did stir something in my memory. I'll have to access some files back in the lab, as this may lead to something important.

For now, there's nothing more to be gained here in Ponyville, so we'll all rest and recover before moving on to what will likely be our final destination for this expedition.

Field Report – Day 3

Our gear has had just about all it can take, so we will be returning to the nearest retrieval beacon and heading home once I've finished this final report. I believe I speak for all of us here in Squad 19 when I say that, after what we learned, I'm more than eager to leave this desolate, ashen rock far behind. But before that, I'm glad to say that we had quite a bit more luck in our search for answers today.

We moved our camp a few miles northwest of Ponyville to Section C-3, which consists of what may be the most intact structure we've seen yet. Though it's nothing but ruins now, there's enough of the massive building left to identify it as a castle of some kind. Removing some of the soot revealed that the castle was crystalline in make and very sturdy.

The existence of this castle isn't entirely unknown to me. There have been reports from expeditions to earlier variants regarding the castle and the pony that owns it (see RIDES Field Report #3052-005 for earliest sighting on record) but this is the first time any of Squad 19 has seen the structure in person. Even broken and burnt out as it was, there are still obvious signs that the interior of the castle was well maintained.

We managed to find a library that had only been partially destroyed, however each of the precious tomes held within had all been ruined by time and the hostile atmosphere. This was the case with much of what we found, however, there was one exception. Upon reaching the deeper depths of the castle, we stumbled upon a set of crystalline hatch doors built into the floor at the bottom of a set of stairs.

Realizing we might have struck proverbial oil in finding what could only be a cellar, we tried to enter, only to find the cellar doors sealed by magic. The seal in question was a fiendishly complex construct of runes and sigils laid out like a puzzle to be solved. The theory and spellwork behind the enchantment was a treasure in and of itself where my field of expertise was concerned.

I've made sure to provide a sketch of the spell circle along with my personal notes on the runes and sigils used in its design (see documents SC-01 through SC-04). It took me the better part of two hours to deactivate the seal, but we eventually made it into the cellar. Just as we'd hoped, the cellar itself was completely untouched. There wasn't much to see aside from a few dusty pieces of furniture and some long expired rations.

There were, however, several things that caught our attention immediately. The first was the small skeleton that lay upon the equally small bed in one corner. The skeleton was perfectly preserved, though it and the bed beneath it had suffered the same fate as every other set of bones we'd found. Charred black and likely very brittle. The difference this time was that these weren't the remains of a pony.

According to Dr. Rock Salt, the bones belonged to an infantile dragon. I found it curious that the dragon in question had been affected, but the rest of the cellar remained unmarred. But then we found a shelf full of rolls and rolls of parchment and several books. Most of these had succumbed to the ravages of time and crumbled at a touch, but we did find a set of scrolls (item #048-A through item #048-E) and a black journal (item #048-F), all of which seemed preserved by yet another enchantment.

The journal seems to have suffered some slight burns, but much of the damage is confined to the back and cover. Most of the pages within are still very much legible, and I was able to confirm the journal's owner and its contents with little issue. After a cursory reading of each record, I have come to gain a better understanding of what transpired prior to this variant's destruction.

Even if the journal hadn't mentioned it outright, it's obvious to me that these records were meant to be found. That they'd been preserved for so long is testament to that and to the character of the journal's owner. The mare has nothing but my respect for what she's done, and my sincerest condolences for what she and the rest of the world went through.

That aside, there are still many unanswered questions that remain, but we have neither the time nor the resources to find those answers—at least, not during this particular expedition. I won't go into detail here in this field report, as it's all there in the scrolls and journal, but I feel I must make a correction to my earlier assessment regarding the "planet" in the sky. After reading through the scrolls, I can say with both complete confidence and utter horror, that the thing in the sky is no planet.

If these records are to be believed, that broken "planet" is all that remains of the thing that caused this world ending disaster—an empty shell left behind by whatever X-Class threat crawled out of it.

Needless to say, the rest of the team and I are suitably unnerved by what we've discovered. It's not the worst post-apocalyptic variant I've come across, but it's certainly up there on my list of Equestrian variants I hope never to explore again. By the looks of the rest of my squad, it seems I'm not alone in this sentiment. I'll have a talk with Director Spin Wave and see if we can't get another expedition squad to take care of any additional trips to EQ-048.